


idōneus

by Aylen



Series: a capite ad calcem [2]
Category: 2770 ab urbe condita - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Collars, Dubious Consent, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hand Feeding, Handcuffs, Hurt/Comfort, Julian isn’t the best master, Kissing, Kneeling, Leashes, M/M, Master/Slave, Pet Play, References to Corporal Punishment (not by main character), Sexual Slavery, Unreliable Narrator, he’s learning, petting, slavefic, slowly, whatever that means
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-10-19 12:46:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20657483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aylen/pseuds/Aylen
Summary: Artemis further settles into Julian's household, meets some of his family, and experiences several firsts with his new master.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! Hopefully this update finds you well :-) If it isn't apparent easily, this story is set directly after the first story in the series - so it's Artemis' second day in Julian's house - and before every other story with Artemis I've posted so far (_Quique Amavit, Cras Amet_, is set a little before the series). A note as always to also please read the fic tags and warnings before reading the fic, to make sure it's something you are comfortable with. 
> 
> Some news: I have created a floorplan of Julian's domus, which can be viewed [here](https://i.imgur.com/qlIiSSw.jpg), and I have also created a rough 3D image/sketch of the exterior of his domus, which can be viewed [here](https://i.imgur.com/KMnffAa.png). As well, I've updated [my Dreamwidth](https://aylen.dreamwidth.org) with the images I just linked to, as well as a story timeline, a list of the households, and more detailed character information, so check that out if you're interested!
> 
> Anywho, please enjoy the chapter - with more to come soon!

_idōneus_ \- adj. fit, proper, suitable, sufficient

  


The next morning, Artemis is awoken by a chime in the slave’s dorm. He gasps in surprise and pulls the sheets tighter around himself. It takes him a second to remember where he is.

Right. 

He was bought by Julian Atticus Valerius. 

Artemis swallows and wipes his face, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes. 

He was bought as a bed slave. He knows that. It’s obvious. But then why isn’t he in his master’s bed? Doesn’t Julian want him? Or did he just want him to settle into the house first? 

Artemis doesn’t know. He knows that he still feels lonely and confused here. Besides Markus, he supposes, who’s been kind to him. It continues to be all very new and strange. 

He’s been told he will have duties outside of being Julian’s bed slave, but he doesn’t know how often that will be. 

He exhales shakily and listens to the other slaves stir, and before he knows it Markus is approaching. Artemis pushes out of bed quickly—and whimpers before he can stop himself as pain zings from his back to his toes. 

Markus is there in a second with a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asks, and Artemis nods, breathing evenly. 

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he says, trying to calm his racing heart. He runs a hand through his damp hair and shifts, trying to put less tension on the lashes. He focuses on his breathing, and tries not to think of the punishment he was dealt less than a week ago. Tries not to think about how clumsy and stupid he was and how it’s a miracle he was ever re-sold at all. 

Markus sits down beside him and rubs his shoulder, and Artemis is glad the sheets still cover his hips. He shivers. 

“We need to get you that medication,” Markus says with a frown, his eyebrows drawn. “A courier brought it over late but you were asleep by then.” He sighs. “Can I take a look?” 

Artemis nods shakily, shifting as Markus pushes his shoulder a little to get a better look. “Y-yeah…” He wraps his arms around himself and curves his shoulders in, feeling guilty for being a pathetic annoyance. 

Markus rubs Artemis’ arm and looks at him worriedly. 

“Have a shower first and then I’ll put it on, alright?” he says gently, and Artemis nods, moving to stand. 

“Okay. Thank you, Markus.”

“Well wait a sec,” Markus says with a small laugh, holding his shoulder to keep him from getting up. Artemis looks at him. “I was just wondering if you slept well,” he says. “Aside from the…”

“Oh.” Artemis swallows and nods again. 

“Good, yeah,” he says, his lips pulling up slightly into more of a grimace than a smile. “The beds are comfortable.”

Markus assesses him and nods. “Good, good. If you’re cold at all, just let me know and I’ll get you another blanket, alright?”

Artemis nods again, grateful for the offer. “Sure. Thank you, again.”

“No worries, kid,” Markus says almost affectionately, looking at him softly. The moment drags on, and then Markus seems to remember himself and shakes his head. “Right. So you’re to shower and brush your teeth every morning,” he says rotely like he knows it’s obvious but still needs to say it, “if you can. If you’re here. But you’ll probably be…”

“With Dominus,” Artemis supplies nervously, and Markus nods slowly. 

“Yes.”

“It’s alright, Markus,” he says with a breathy laugh. “I know what a concubīnus is,” he says, looking up at the older man, and Markus’ eyebrows go up just a little. He smiles lightly. 

“I know you do,” he says, and his eyebrows draw again, his lips pressed together. 

“So you don’t have to protect me from it or whatever it is you think you need to be gentle about.” Artemis winces, realizing that that might have been rude, but Markus just huffs a laugh and steps back as Artemis gets up. 

“Alright,” he says gently. “Alright.” He raises his hands in surrender, and Artemis can’t help but notice how long his fingers are, how toned his forearms. He looks into Markus’ eyes and Markus nods. “I don’t want to be insensitive, is all,” he says. 

Artemis half-smiles. 

“I know. Thanks.” He looks down. He knows that Markus is just trying to be nice. 

“So,” Markus says after a moment. “Wash up, come back so I can put the cream on, and then I’ll… take you to Dominus.”

Artemis swallows and nods. “Yeah. Okay.”

He tries not to let anxiety overwhelm him as he goes to shower. 

When he’s dry and has a towel around his waist, Markus comes over—damp from the shower himself—and unscrews the cap to the tube of medicine. Artemis can see the prescription information on the side of it, with his name and Julian’s name and the medication and amount. He sniffs and turns to the side to give Marcus access to his back, and the older slave starts to apply it to the long whip-marks on his back. He’s thankful, at least, that they aren’t deep. The person doing the punishing knew not to hurt him too badly, at least. 

At least. 

At _least_ he only has _light _scarring because someone knew that a torn up pleasure-slave is worth basically fuck-all. If he’s not pretty then nobody would want him and all he’d be good for is manual labour somewhere, and he certainly wouldn’t fetch the high prices, perfect, _unmarked_ pleasure-slaves do. Artemis sniffs, and winces as the cool gel is applied to the healing marks. 

He hisses and grips his arms in an attempt to stay quiet, and Markus hums quietly in sympathy.

“It’s alright, I’m almost done,” Markus says, though it still takes another five minutes to finish. When he does, though, Artemis breathes a sigh of relief. 

“Thank you, Markus,” he says, giving Markus a small smile. Markus returns it as he screws on the cap again. 

“Of course,” he says, squeezing Artemis’ shoulder. 

Artemis waits a few minutes for the salve to dry a bit before he dresses gingerly in the pale, tan-coloured tunic and cord he’s been provided with—no sandals or anything yet—and follows Markus. 

On the way to Julian’s room, he tries not to panic. He doesn’t know why he’s nervous. He spent most of yesterday with the man, and has already had his cock in his mouth, and been jerked off by him. But he hasn’t been fucked by him yet, which he knows is coming. 

But it’s morning. So maybe Julian will wait until night to do it. Hopefully. Not like it matters that much. One part of Artemis just wants to get it over with. The other part is… curious. Or possibly never wants it to happen. But that’s not an option for him, so he might as well try to make the best of it. 

After going downstairs from the cellae servōrum, they cross the ātrium to the stairs and the family quarters. They go up the stairs—these ones wide and brightly-lit with high windows, unlike the dim stairway in the slave quarters—to the second floor. This looks out over a railing onto the ātrium through the compluvium on one side and the peristȳlium and garden on the other. There is a living alcove with sofas and a TV up here, too. But Artemis doesn’t have time to take a good look at it because then they’re in Julian’s cubiculum.

Julian is already showered and dressed and is standing in front of a full-length mirror, putting beaten metal cuffs on his wrists. 

“Dominus,” Markus says, “I’ve brought you Artemis, as requested.”

Artemis stands with his hands in front of him, eyes on the floor as he tries to calm his breathing. “Dominus,” he says quietly. 

Julian smiles at them, his eyes sweeping over Artemis. “Thank you, Markus. That’ll be all.” 

Markus nods and spares Artemis one glance before leaving. 

Then Julian’s eyes are on him and Artemis feels a shiver sweep up his body. He isn't overly bothered by Julian’s eyes on him, but it’s still invasive. 

“Did you sleep well, Ari?” Julian asks, coming up close and looking down at him. Artemis nods. 

“Yes, Dominus. Th-the beds are very soft,” he says, becoming quieter, unsure if Julian wants elaboration. Probably not, he thinks, his face tingeing red. But Julian’s lips quirk up and he takes Artemis’ chin in his hand, stroking his thumb along Artemis’ jaw. Artemis shivers and leans into him just a little. 

“Good. I’m glad,” Julian says. He moves his hand to stroke Artemis’ cheek with the backs of his fingers, and Artemis’ eyelids flutter at the gentle touch. “You’ll be in my bed tonight, and hopefully most nights after that,” Julian says, and Artemis can read between the lines: _if you don’t prove to be a disappointment, that is. _

“Yes, Dominus,” he says quietly. 

“Does that sound like something you might enjoy?” Julian asks, and Artemis blinks in confusion. _Enjoy? Being fucked every night against his will?_

“I… I’m not sure, Dominus,” he says truthfully, and then: “I would like to… t-try it.” He might as well be honest about his curiosity—it can’t hurt to say he’s at least a little interested. Julian seems relatively nice, and is good-looking, after all… 

Julian chuckles, not unkindly. 

“Good. We’ll see how it goes, hm?”

_And if you don’t like me, or I don’t satisfy you, you can just send me back and get a refund_, Artemis supplies to himself, helpfully. 

He nods. “Yes, Dominus.”

“And Markus helped with the salve this morning?”

“Yes, Dominus.”

Julian hums and pulls the back of Artemis’ tunic away from his neck, checking his back. Artemis shivers and his shoulders go up just a little at the casual inspection. 

“Hm. Good. Well, be gentle with yourself, and I will too. I’ve advised that you aren’t to do any strenuous activity until you’re healed and you should let me or Markus know if a chore you’ve been given is unduly difficult, alright?”

Well that’s surprising, though Artemis supposes it makes sense. Julian will at least wait until he’s healed to… push him. No sense damaging a slave further and risking permanent injury. He nods again. 

“Yes, Dominus.”

“Good boy.”

Artemis can’t help the small smile that appears on his lips, the faint colouring of his cheeks. Julian huffs a soft laugh. 

“There’s that pretty smile,” Julian says, and Artemis flushes with faint pleasure, unused to being complimented. 

Julian looks at him for several moments, taking in his face and seeming pleased with his reaction. 

“Did your parents have the same colouring as you do?” he asks then, and Artemis freezes, then swallows uncomfortably. 

“My… māter, yes, Dominus,” he says, thinking of his mother. Her name was Keti, he remembers, and she had been sweet and fierce. Fiercely protective of him. She called him _verculum_; ‘my little springtime’. He exhales as he thinks of her, but then pushes the thoughts from his mind. He hasn’t seen her in years. She could be dead for all he knows, though he hopes she isn’t. “She… had the same hair and skin as I do.” Pale and freckled all over, mostly in the face. It makes him prone to burning in the sun, so he has to be careful. “My… pater… my māter said I looked like him. But I’ve never met him. Just seen a picture.”

A pale colour photograph, crinkled and fraying on the edges. Of a man with kind, tired but bright eyes, and a shy half-smile. His bronze hair had been a little darker than Artemis’, but wavy like his is now. 

As he remembers them, he forgets for a moment that Julian is watching, and he blinks and glances at his master. 

“Sorry, Dominus,” he says, though he isn’t sure what for, and Julian’s lips quirk up. 

“It’s alright. Sit,” he says, motioning at the bed, and Artemis glances back before doing so, keeping his hands in his lap. 

He crosses his ankles and keeps his eyes down, and Julian sits beside him. His presence is imposing next to Artemis; yes, he’s bigger and older, but the difference in quality between his clothes and Artemis’ is stark, too. Where Artemis’ tunic—durable and of good quality, but simple and short—is a woven sand colour with dark stitching, Julian’s rich, longer tunic is a fine ocean blue with alternating patterns and borders in green and silver, held to his waist by a thick leather belt and polished metal buckle. But, even if he were naked, the very fact that Julian can look on him if he wishes, wherever and whenever he wants, and Artemis is denied that, is a sufficiently potent display of power as to make Artemis feel vulnerable and obsequious next to him. 

It is not a new feeling for him, but it feels different with everyone he’s expected to submit to. The feeling with Julian is not as oppressive as he feared, not so threatening. It is weighty and intense, and interested. Julian seems curious, and affectionate, somehow. 

Artemis holds himself still under Julian’s eyes, not shaking or leaning away. It isn’t uncomfortable, and he doesn’t think Julian will startle him. Yes, he’s taken his pleasure, but he isn’t rough about it. He doesn’t push Artemis farther than he can go. He’s careful, and Artemis feels it in his gaze now, in the warmth of him now lightly pressed against him. 

“Were you close to your māter?” Julian asks, and Artemis shivers, now. He nods. 

“Yes, Dominus.”

“Tell me about her.”

Artemis swallows, not really wanting to divulge too much. “She was kind and gentle, and… sought from our dominus an education for me. He… let me read _līberī_ and have lessons, because of her.”

Julian’s hand comes to Artemis’ lap and takes the nearest hand, and as he listens, he rubs it gently and holds it close to him. His hands are warm and large over Artemis’, and Artemis feels a prickle of fear and unknowing. Will Julian want something before breakfast? He prepares himself to the idea, and tries to ignore his empty stomach. 

“Keep going,” Julian says, and brings Artemis’ hand up to his mouth, inhaling lightly and brushing his lips over Artemis’ skin. It’s distracting. 

“She, um, she made games for me when I was little, to keep me amused when I had too much energy…”

Julian pauses for a moment, then continues, pressing light kisses over Artemis’ knuckles, the back of his hand and fingers. Artemis shivers again and shifts, his other hand staying over his lap. 

“She would tease me and poke fun at—” _the master, _“others.” He swallows. “We were close. She made sure I was eating enough and she… held me at night.” He wrenches his eyes away from Julian, can feel himself getting more relaxed as Julian kisses him. He wants to ask what Julian’s doing. Why is he asking him about his parents and kissing him? Why isn’t he telling him to suck him off, or fucking him. Surely he should have fucked him by now. That’s coming, he knows it is. Tonight, probably. 

Julian is looking at him, and he feels suddenly guilty for speculating on the vulgar. Julian strokes his hand and sets it down, giving it a squeeze. 

“She sounds much like my māter,” he says, and leans into Artemis a little sideways. “You were lucky to have her.”

_And cursed to lose her_.

Artemis swallows thickly and nods. “Yes, Dominus,” he says, and the silence is heavy as Julian looks at him and strokes his hand. 

The sound of footsteps comes and Markus arrives at the door. He knocks though his eyes are downcast. 

“Iēntāculum is ready, Dominus,” he says, and Julian nods without looking away from Artemis. 

“Gratias, Markus. Keep it warm for a short while longer.” 

Markus nods and leaves. 

There is another long moment before Julian squeezes Artemis’ hand again and rubs his shoulder with his other hand, moving it to Artemis’ neck for a moment. 

“You showered this morning, yes?”

It should be obvious from his wet hair but Artemis nods dutifully anyway. 

“Yes, Dominus.”

“Did you clean yourself completely or just… your hair and body?”

Artemis blinks, and then realizes what Julian’s talking about. 

_“Oh_—I’m sorry, Dominus,” he apologizes, dropping his head. “I just did… the outside… but I should have assumed you wanted—” He flushes a warm red in embarrassment and faint fear. _Stupid. _Of course Julian would want him completely clean. 

“It’s alright, Ari,” Julian says gently with a small laugh, squeezing his hand. “It’s not completely necessary, but I would prefer it if you did so in the future whenever you shower, within reason. If you aren’t sure how I can have Markus help you.”

Artemis pales and nods, knowing an order when he hears it. “Yes, Dominus.” Now he wonders if Julian is _about_ to fuck him. It would make sense… 

“Good boy. Now if you could please strip and get on the bed, on your knees with your head on your arms.”

Oh gods, _is _Julian going to fuck him now? Artemis nods. “Yes, Dominus,” he says, quickly doing as asked—careful of the cuts and medication on his back—to kneel on the bed with his head down and his arse in the air. 

“Good boy, so good for me,” Julian says quietly, and thankfully Artemis hears him close the frosted glass door, too, so not just anyone who comes will immediately have an eyeful of him. 

But then there is a quiet minute in which Artemis has an idea that Julian is simply looking at him. Which is… new. And uncomfortable, and makes his breath shaky and his face flush pink. 

The seconds tick by and he swallows, trying not to shift, but he can’t help that he tenses his entrance nervously, expecting… something, he isn’t sure. But nothing comes, and as the silence deepens, his breath gets a little louder and faster as his nerves get the better of him. 

When he feels a touch on his lower thigh, he whimpers and flinches, cringing away from the touch, his toes curling. 

“It’s alright, Artemis,” Julian says softly, and Artemis makes a small noise of nervousness, but nods. 

“Yes, Dominus,” he says, and Julian rubs up and down gently in what is probably meant to be soothing, but only makes Artemis wince when he gets higher. Julian hums and puts his left hand on Artemis’ shoulder, rubbing there too and smoothing his hand up to his shoulder, avoiding the cuts. 

“Relax,” Julian says, feeling his side and moving his right hand up to Artemis’ arsecheek, feeling the soft, round smoothness of it and slipping his fingers between his legs. Artemis takes even breaths. Trying to relax, but it’s difficult. He hasn’t been touched like this by Julian since the market, and that was in a cramped little room with Julian’s fingers up his arse. This is calmer and slower, and he tries to remember that Julian hasn’t given any indication that he might be ruthless when taking him, though that doesn’t mean he necessarily won’t be. 

But Julian doesn’t touch his cock. Not yet. His hand moves again to his arse and then to his lower back, and he pats him as one might a scared colt. “You’re doing very well,” he says, and Artemis holds the words close. 

Julian withdraws, and Artemis can hear him doing something at his side-table. There’s a wet noise and he comes back, his left hand dry on his shoulder and soothing. His right goes to his arse, dry fingers smoothing down between his legs—a pause, then a wet, cool finger at his entrance. Artemis shivers and shifts and Julian rubs his shoulder. “That’s it, it’s alright,” he says, and his finger swirls around the tight ring of muscle, making thrills run up Artemis’ spine. It feels nice, if strange. 

“Have you ever had anything put inside you, Ari?” Julian asks, and Artemis shivers. 

“I… yes, Dominus.”

“What was it?”

“Um… my previous domina… liked to use plugs… sometimes, Dominus.”

He bites his lip as Julian pushes one finger in and swirls it around. 

“Hmm. Did she… and have you ever been taken, in this pretty little hole of yours?”

Flushing pink, Artemis nods. “She did that a few times… with a strap-on… and then… at the company… I was u-used a dozen times or so by… patrons. Dominus.”

“Hmm.”

Julian puts another finger in, and then another, and Artemis makes a small noise, pressing his forehead to the bed. His cock has started dripping precome and he desperately wants to touch himself. 

“Does this feel good?”

“Y-yes, Dominus…”

Artemis shifts slightly. 

“How big were the plugs?”

“Uh-um… a-a few i-inches, Dominus.”

“A few inches long or wide?”

“Uh I’m not—an i-inch or so wide I think… and several long. M-my domina never tried big ones. Or n-not that I could t-tell.”

“And no one used plugs on you at the company?”

“N-no, Dominus.”

“Have you ever fucked anyone?”

Artemis whimpers softly, knowing… well, knowing it’s a touchy topic, of slaves fucking their masters or mistresses. Less so for slaveboys and mistresses, but still. 

He nods. “Y-yes, Dominus,” he says. 

“Who?”

“My domina, Casa.”

“How many times? Did you use a condom?”

Artemis whines quietly. “I… many times. Once a week for a year or so, maybe. But yes I did. Dominus.” 

Julian makes a low noise of displeasure and removes his fingers, going to the adjoining bathroom to wash his hands. Artemis swallows down a whine and turns to watch Julian, thinking he’s disappointed his new master. But it’s not like he had a _choice_ of doing any of that. It’s not like he even wanted to do it, because he didn’t. He hadn’t been that attracted to Casa, and he didn’t particularly like fucking her. But she liked him, and she liked it when he fucked her—until her husband found out, anyway. He’s just glad he didn’t get beaten within an inch of his life when that happened. Instead, her husband had been a reasonable man, and knew a concubīnus would be sold for much more if he was undamaged. 

A minute later Julian comes back and Artemis drops his eyes, feeling himself tremble slightly. He takes a shaky breath and sniffs. 

Julian has gotten something from his side-table drawer, something dark, and Artemis risks a glance to see that it’s a jet black plug. Oh, and it looks big. That was why Julian was asking about them… Well, hopefully it’s not _too_ big. Artemis has taken plugs, but, like he said, not big ones. He wasn’t lying about that. 

He watches as Julian squirts lube onto the toy and then a bit onto his hand. Artemis swallows and drops his eyes when Julian turns to him, and then his master is sitting next to his legs and stroking his arse gently. 

“Now if this starts to hurt you _say something,_ alright, Artemis?” 

Artemis nods and then remembers he has to answer verbally. “Yes, Dominus.”

“Good boy.”

Artemis shivers. 

A moment later he feels the tip of the toy on his hole, and he clenches automatically. He makes himself breathe and tries to relax. Julian puts a little pressure on it and rubs his side to calm him. “Good boy, just like that. You can take this. It’s a smaller one than you said you’ve taken before so it shouldn’t be a problem. There we go…” 

He pushes further and Artemis relaxes to let it slide in… and in it goes up to the neck. He gasps and whines softly at the brief pain, pressing his face into the bed and squeezing his entrance against the foreign object. But it doesn’t hurt once it’s in. He feels full and just a bit achy. He sighs and his hole flutters, trying to push it out. 

“Beautiful,” Julian says, rubbing Artemis affectionately, and Artemis blushes. “Good boy, Artemis, that’s perfect.”

“Thank you, Dominus,” he says very quietly, his eyes slipping shut. His toes curl as he gets used to the feeling of something rubbing him from inside. 

“Now… can you hold this in for me for a few hours do you think?”

Artemis lets out a breath. A few _hours_? But he nods regardless. Yes, he can manage that, probably. 

“Yes, Dominus.”

“Good boy. You let me know if you can’t. You won’t be in trouble.”

Artemis nods again, feeling some kind of emotion bubble up that surprises him. Gratitude, probably. 

“Yes, Dominus,” he says, sighing, suddenly tired. He still feels like Julian is displeased with him, and he doesn’t like it. He feels dirty, like all the times he serviced other people—even if it wasn’t of his own consent—just cheapened him, and made him worth less. Less desirable, less clean, less pure. He feels like crying. Because he knows that he _isn’t_ bad or dirty. Julian just thinks he is. 

And Artemis wants to be good for him somehow, to prove that he isn’t dirty. Or something. He just wants Julian to be happy with him. He wants his new master to be happy with him, here, in his new home. He doesn’t want to be thought of as a cheap whore, because he knows he isn’t one. 

Julian strokes his arse and back for a minute, watching him, before he speaks. 

“Relax for a few minutes. Lie on the bed however you want,” he says, and goes to the bathroom again to wash his hands. Artemis watches him with wide eyes and then tiredly drops onto his side. He obeys the order happily, stretching out and then curling up on his side, watching Julian and relaxing for a minute. 

When Julian comes back, he feels shyness overtake him again and he curls up a little more, hiding himself against his better judgement. Julian seems to notice and he smiles. He sits on the bed next to Artemis and in one smooth motion, gently pushes his left thigh back to expose his still-aroused cock while leaning down to take his jaw and hold him still for a kiss. Artemis makes a small noise and yields to the kiss, returning it as much as he can with Julian taking his pleasure. Julian’s hand on his thigh is warm and Artemis can’t help the bolt of arousal that goes through him at being manhandled like this. 

He has never really experienced something so possessive and yet… still affectionate? As his first owner who wanted him for a sexual purpose, Casa had been new and terrifying, and still wanted him to please her. She didn’t have much interest in trying to dominate him. Then at the company, those were just nameless people he never saw again. This is… different. 

“Good boy,” Julian says after a moment, still holding his jaw, and takes in his face. “Are you comfortable?” he asks, and Artemis knows the real question is, _are you in pain? _Because he is not really comfortable right now, and that’s mostly the point. 

Artemis nods. “Yes, Dominus. It’s alright. It’s… good.”

Julian smiles lightly. “Good… oh, and one more thing. You aren’t allowed to touch yourself or come without permission.” He watches Artemis coolly, and Artemis swallows, and nods. 

“Yes, Dominus.”

His pleasure—which is not even _his_, but his master’s—has been controlled before, by Casa, but not for long periods. This sounds like… a rule. A blanket statement as to his behavior in this house. It’s… uncomfortable, and frustrating to hear, and he has an idea that he’ll have trouble with it if Julian chooses to deny him, which he very well could for a variety of reasons. 

Julian’s lips twitch up. “Good boy. Now… I would love to do more with you here, right now, but, Iēntāculum. Are you hungry?”

“Yes, Dominus,” Artemis says, and remembers unhappily his empty stomach. 

“Hmm, good.” Julian goes to a tall dresser to the right of a flatscreen TV above a long, cherrywood table and opens it, reaching into what looks like a large basket. Artemis watches curiously, wondering what he’s taking out. 

He gets his answer a moment later when Julian comes back with a long chain and an odd-looking object with crossed silver rings fused together; handcuffs? Artemis swallows. 

“Up,” Julian says, putting the long chain on the bed. Artemis shivers and stands up off the bed, wondering if that’s a leash. Julian hands him his tunic next and Artemis pulls it on and ties the cord around his waist. 

When he’s dressed, Julian takes his arms gently. Artemis takes even breaths, and Julian leans in close and kisses the side of his head. “Steady,” he says. “This is a little trust exercise.”

_Isn’t my very status a trust exercise? _Artemis thinks tiredly, but keeps his thoughts to himself. “Yes, Dominus,” he says, and silences a groan as the plug shifts inside him. 

Julian hums approvingly and, being careful of his healing cuts, crosses Artemis’ wrists over each other behind his back before pressing the cool metal to his skin. He closes the other sides and there’s a soft click. 

“Wonderful,” Julian says, holding Artemis shoulders and leaning in to kiss his head again. Artemis shivers and a thrill of pleasure sweeps through him at the praise. Julian has continued to praise him ever since he bought him, and Artemis doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to it. It’s _nice_, despite the fact that what Julian’s doing to him _isn’t _all that nice. 

Next, Julian comes around to his front and smirks as he clips the leash to a front ring on Artemis’ chain collar. Artemis swallows, very aware that he doesn’t have the use of his hands now, and if Julian wants to take him anywhere using that leash then he’ll have to be very careful not to trip. He _will _have to trust that Julian won’t pull him over or go too fast for him if they go anywhere. 

“Oh don’t look so worried,” Julian says with a chuckle, stroking Artemis’ cheek. “We’re just going downstairs to the peristȳlium, which you have seen isn’t far. Come along.”

Artemis swallows a whimper and has less choice than usual as Julian draws him along outside the cubiculum to the stairs that are directly to the left. He hesitates and Julian pauses, waiting for him to follow and going down slowly so he’s sure he won’t lose his footing. Artemis follows on bare feet—a contrast to Julian’s sandals—feeling slightly reassured that his master isn’t making him hurry.

Well, not hurry _much _anyway. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
_cubiculum_ \- bedroom  
_verculum_ \- (loosely) ‘my little springtime’  
_māter_ \- mother  
_pater_ \- father  
_dominus_ \- master  
_domina_ \- mistress  
_iēntāculum _\- breakfast  
_gratias_ \- thanks  
_peristȳlium_ \- a peristyle, an open interior space (sometimes a garden) surrounded by columns  
_tablīnum _\- the study for the paterfamilias - office or study of the paterfamilias, usually open to the ātrium on one side and the garden on the other. where he carries out any business and received his clients  
_ātrium_ \- open central court / formal entrance hall  
_compluvium_ \- a rectangular open space in the roof over the ātrium of a Roman house, which collected rainwater falling on the surrounding roof and conducted it to a basin or shallow pool (_impluvium_) below  
_cellae servōrum_ \- slave bedrooms  
_concubīnus_ \- a male concubine, bed-slave, male sex-slave (always a slave)  
_concubīna_ \- a female concubine. could be a freedwoman or, possibly, a non-citizen free woman or, far more rarely, a low-class citizen  
_līberī_ \- books


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Artemis watches Julian work and finds a way to be helpful to his master.

The peristȳlium, open to the sky, is a sunny place, even early in the morning. The garden within, surrounded by a colonnade, is lush with raised flower and vegetable beds. In a corner near the tablīnum is a small, round glass table with several chairs set around it. Here, some of the iēntāculum, the meal taken when one first wakes, is laid out. 

Artemis sighs in relief, his mouth watering. He doesn’t have too much time to look over the food—a pitcher of orange juice and different kinds of fruit in several bowls—before Julian is sitting down and motioning him to kneel on the stone floor beside him. Artemis winces but does, and his knees hurt for a moment before he can adjust to a more comfortable position. Another thing he’s aware of is the plug inside him. Thankfully the base is flat so he doesn’t have trouble sitting, but it nudges him in a way that he isn’t very fond of when he just wants to focus on kneeling and hopefully eating. He huffs softly, his wrists pinching slightly when he tries to get comfortable. He thinks that he should be alright for a half hour before his knees, at least, really start to hurt. He wonders if Julian’s thought about that, or if he just _wants_ him to suffer. 

He’s surprised then when he feels Julian pull firmly at the collar, and he automatically follows it so he doesn’t choke, shifting to be closer to his master and straightening up. His shoulder is against Julian’s leg and his neck is by Julian’s hand, the collar nearly cutting into his neck. He swallows in confusion, glancing up to make sure that’s what Julian wants, and Julian gives him a light smile, petting his hair with his other hand. Artemis makes a small noise and closes his eyes, leaning into Julian’s hand. It feels nice. 

“Stay in this position,” Julian says, brushing his cheek, and Artemis nods. 

“Yes, Dominus,” he says, grateful when Julian lets up on the leash so he can breathe a little easier. It puts more strain on his thighs and back to stay as straight as this, and he knows it’ll make his knees hurt more, but there’s nothing for it. 

Julian takes the newspaper that’s been folded on his plate and opens it, and as he does so the slavegirl named Pria appears and begins pouring orange juice into his glass. Artemis notes curiously that her blonde hair is cropped quite short, almost as short as a man’s. It’s styled so that it looks nice on her, though, with the brown hair band wrapped around. That’s probably why he hadn’t noticed it before; she had been wearing the band to cover most of her hair the other day. He wonders… what her role is in the house. Is she a concubīna to Julian as he is a concubīnus to him? She’s certainly pretty enough for it. 

“Salvē, Dominus,” she says, and he hums without looking up to acknowledge her. “Your _ova cocta_ will be ready in a minute.”

He waves his hand and she leaves. 

“That was Pria,” Julian says. “I believe you’ve met her before.”

“Yes, Dominus,” Artemis says. 

“She is my _soror_ Cecilia’s girl, and you will go to her if you have any questions that she would be able to answer.”

“Yes, Dominus,” Artemis says, and is curious about this _sister_ of Julian’s. He hasn’t seen any sister, nor had Julian mentioned one. Does she live with him? How old is she?

“You will meet Cecilia this morning… whenever she shows up. You will address her as ‘domina’, is that clear?”

Julian looks down at him and Artemis nods. 

“Yes, Dominus.”

“Good boy.” Julian pets his hair with one hand and Artemis leans into him. 

Julian goes back to reading the paper, stroking him absently, and Artemis tries to ignore his rumbling stomach, and the fruit he saw on the table. 

“Salvē, Jules,” comes a young-ish female voice, and Artemis perks up nervously. That would be Cecilia, he assumes. He hopes she’s… not awful. 

“Salvē, Ces,” Julian says as the young woman in a shin-length, wine-red tunic comes onto the patio. 

“Oh, and is this him?” she says with interest as she takes a seat and looks down at Artemis. He flushes. He wants to look at her but he daren’t raise his eyes. 

Julian pets Artemis’ hair. “Yes, this is him.” 

“Oh, he’s so cute. Let me look at him. _Please, _Julian,” she says sweetly. He hums, tightening the grip he has on Artemis’ leash, and Artemis shifts to accommodate. 

“Alright, but don’t scare him.”

“I _won’t_. Don’t worry.”

“_Good_. Up, Ari,” he says, and Artemis swallows, getting his feet under him without the use of his hands, and wincing as the plug in him shifts again. He keeps his eyes down as she examines him, though from this angle he can see that she has black hair pulled into a bun, and a pretty face. She wears some silver jewellery that sparkles in the morning light, and her nails are painted a glinting onyx. 

“Ohh…” she coos. “He’s lovely.” She stands and turns him gently with manicured nails on his stomach, making the chain leash clink softly, and leans in close to look at his eyes. His cheeks warm and he straightens even more, shifting in the handcuffs. “Look up for me, cutie,” she says, and he does, looking a middle distance away into the garden. “Wow, his eyes are amazing,” she says, “and those freckles… Now, tell me,” she says, looking around him to Julian. “Did you go looking for something like this, hm? He’s just so…”

“Celtic,” Julian supplies, and Artemis drops his eyes, not liking being talked about. 

He’s heard that word to describe him before. Along with Germanic and Gaulish. He likes Celtic the most, though. It feels slightly less offensive. 

“Yes…” Cecilia says, looking at him again, her gaze straying to his exposed neck and arms. “He has such curious colouring.”

“He does, rather,” Julian says. “But, no, I didn’t go looking for it. I wasn’t sure what I would find. And you don’t find ones like him there very often. He wasn’t even in the gallery area, which surprised me.”

“Yes, well, you told me what happened.” She looks at Julian and Artemis drops his head down further. _What happened. _Him being stupid and getting himself whipped. 

Julian looks back at her evenly. “Yes, but still. You can barely even tell that happened. And I’m sure when it heals there’ll only be light scarring.” 

_Light scarring._

For dropping a fucking vase. It wasn’t even his _fault._

“Oh I’m sure,” Cecilia says, “but I mean, that’s why he was… in the general section.”

“I know, Ces,” Julian says flatly. “I’m saying, he’s still gorgeous. It doesn’t make any sense.” Julian rubs Artemis’ arm gently and Artemis warms, feeling Julian’s eyes on him as well. It’s nice… hearing that.

Cecilia snorts, giggling, and sits down just as Pria comes back with a plate of food. 

“Oh, _frater_, dear, I think you’re—”

“Yes?” Julian asks coolly, and she grins but shuts up. 

“Well nevermind, then,” she says, still smirking. 

Artemis’ eyebrows draw just slightly. What had Cecilia been about to say? In _love_? That’s ridiculous. 

“Domina, Dominus, ova cocta.”

“Gratias_, cāra_,” Cecilia says as Pria serves the main dish, and Artemis suddenly knows what the dynamics are between Pria and Julian. Pria isn’t _Julian’s _concubīna—she’s _Cecilia’s_. 

“Sit, Ari,” Julian says, and Artemis nods and kneels again. 

“Yes, Dominus,” he says quietly, and Julian tautens the leash so he’s drawn closer again. Not so close that he’s being choked, but enough so that he isn’t slouching down. Which he wouldn’t anyway, but… 

He hears Pria spoon fruit onto each of Julian and Cecilia’s plates. Before Artemis had knelt back down he had seen strawberries, pears, and a few figs. His mouth waters at the thought, though he has a sudden nagging thought that Julian might not feed him at all. But he must, at some point in the morning. He wonders if the other slaves have had breakfast. They must have. Artemis wonders if perhaps Julian asked for him not to have it so he would be hungry now. Well, it’s working, and he is. 

Finally, though, Julian puts down his newspaper, and a second later there’s a bright red piece of strawberry in front of Artemis’ mouth, in Julian’s hand. He blinks at it and carefully looks up to make sure of Julian’s intent. Julian’s looking at him with a slight quirk of his lips. 

“It’s alright, you can take it, Ari,” Julian says, and Artemis quickly drops his eyes and nods. 

“Yes, Dominus,” he says, before taking the piece of fruit between his teeth, chewing and swallowing. Julian’s hand is still there though so he licks the juice off delicately, feeling himself warm pleasurably but with embarrassment at the intimate gesture. 

“Good boy,” Julian says, rubbing his cheek with the dry backs of his fingers, and Artemis can’t help but feel pleased at the praise. He sighs and leans lightly against Julian’s arm, feeling his warmth. He’s a little cool being on the stone like this, and he shifts to relieve some of the discomfort. 

Julian alternates between taking a few bites himself and giving Artemis some fruit. He cuts the figs up at one point and gives him some of those, too. Artemis sniffs it and wrinkles his nose but takes the piece gingerly in his mouth anyway and chews, trying to ignore the strange texture. He isn’t fond of figs but he knows he can’t refuse it. Not now, anyway, he thinks as he swallows with a wince. 

Eventually, Julian also gives him a few bites of the egg dish. And that_ is _scrumptious. It seems to have ham and vegetables in it, too, which taste amazing. Artemis wants to eat a whole plate of that. He leans against Julian again when Julian isn’t feeding him, feeling better now that he isn’t hungry. 

Julian and Cecilia chat together for a while and he listens curiously, though he shifts up when he feels Julian move. He’s surprised to see Julian holding a small plate of fruit and eggs, and further surprised when Julian sets the dish on the floor in front of him. Oh, no… is he going to have to…?

He looks up at Julian for confirmation and Julian just smiles and motions with his chin for Artemis to get going. 

“I’m sure you’re still hungry,” Julian says, as if he’s being considerate. Artemis thinks he’d rather go hungry. But he nods and turns back to the dish. He moves back a little, feeling the stone under his knees and the plug inside him shift against that one spot. He bites back a groan and hears Julian loosen the leash, the metal links clinking softly. He huffs silently and leans down, eating the food from the floor with his mouth like a dog. He’s almost worried that his tunic is too short in the back to cover his arse in this position, but hopefully it covers most of him, anyway. 

And once he gets over the embarrassment of the position and Julian and Cecilia go back to talking, he actually kind of doesn’t mind being able to eat by himself. It’s a little better than being hand-fed. Having to be careful not to scrape Julian’s fingers with his teeth and licking his fingers afterward isn’t all that pleasant. 

It is a little difficult not to get fruit juice and grease on his face without the use of his hands, though, and when he’s finished and has straightened up, he’s surprised by a hand in his hair keeping him still and a wet cloth on his face cleaning him up. He shivers and looks up at Julian in thanks, and leans against him again when he’s released. Julian, however, shifts so that his hand is lightly pressed against Artemis’ neck, drawing him closer to fit his head on Julian’s lap. Artemis sighs, relaxing and nuzzling closer when Julian starts running fingers through his hair. 

Julian returns to sipping his coffee and reading the paper, and Artemis feels himself zone out a little as he listens to the siblings talk, the bubbling of the fountain in the garden, and the birds that come to wash themselves in the cool water. It’s peaceful. Far more peaceful than anything he’s experienced in years, and he doesn’t think Julian will turn out to be a terrible master, hopefully. Of course one can never know, but for now Artemis will take what he’s been given and being thankful for it. He might as well while he can, anyway. 

...

After iēntāculum, Julian takes Artemis into the tablīnum right beside the garden. He unclips the leash and handcuffs and has Artemis stand behind him by the wall while he works on his laptop and opens up hard copy files. 

Artemis is still not sure exactly what Julian does for a living. Yesterday the medicus had called him _magister_, which is a professor, so he must be some sort of teacher. For what level, though, he isn’t sure. 

“Ari, go get a pitcher of ice water and a glass from the culīna, alright?” 

Artemis starts at being addressed but nods. “Yes, Dominus,” he says, and has to get his bearings for a moment before he remembers where the culīna is. He goes around behind the tablīnum to the entrance of the slave quarters and down the dim, narrow hall. When he turns the corner, though, dusty afternoon light streams into the hall through high, barred windows. He doesn’t stop and admire it though, instead hurrying on to the culīna. 

There, Amos himself is chopping chicken, a pot of something steaming beside him on the island range. 

“Salvē, Ari,” the cook says, “how goes it?” 

Artemis pauses at his use of the nickname, though he isn’t offended. It couldn’t hurt, and he likes Amos. 

“Salvē, Amos. It’s alright.” He’s reminded again of the plug inside him and shifts subtly. “Dominus needs some water, um… where are the pitchers?”

“Just over there, and use filtered water from the jug in the fridge.”

Artemis nods as he collects the items, setting up a tray with everything on it. 

“Amos…?”

“Yes, Ari,” Amos says, grabbing a bowl of spices and sprinkling some over the meat. 

“What is Dominus a Magister of?”

Amos looks up and smiles. “A Universitas, boy. The University of Rome,” he says, as if that explains everything.

“And what does he teach there?”

Amos sighs and looks up from his cooking, though he seems more to be thinking about it more than anything. 

“Well, he’s a Magister of Communication and Literature, so he teaches about rhetoric, professional communication, media studies, and literature... from what I understand. I might be wrong about some of that and Markus could tell you the details of it more than I could,” Amos says, chopping an onion quickly and with precision.

Artemis pours the water and nods, trying to process everything Amos just said. “Oh. Okay. I’ll ask him.” He puts the water away and he can feel Amos watching his back. 

“Why do you want to know?” Amos asks, as Artemis picks up the tray. Artemis shrugs. 

“I… want to know more about him,” he says. “I want to know what he thinks about all day.”

Amos half-smiles and looks back down. “Yes, wouldn’t we all,” he says, chuckling as he drops the onions into the boiling water. 

Back in the tablīnum, Artemis sets the tray down on the desk and pours a glass of water before taking the glass and setting it on a coaster next to Julian’s wrist. 

“Would you like anything else, Dominus?” he asks carefully, remembering his training in service. 

Julian looks at him with a surprised and pleased look. 

“No, Ari. That’s alright. I’ll be having students in soon, so you know, but you won’t be required to serve them anything or interact with them.”

“Yes, Dominus,” Artemis says, somewhat curious about these students of Julian’s. 

The students, however, turn out to be regular young people who mostly pay Artemis no attention. Markus shows them in and they sit in the chair across from Julian’s desk and ask him questions about schoolwork or essays they’re doing. 

His demeanor towards them is exceedingly genial and kind. He attempts to help them with their issues or give them support without coming off as patronizing or overbearing, and he even jokes with them several times. It’s… interesting to see. Artemis wishes he could join the conversation at several points, but he knows that one of the reasons he’s even present in these personal meetings is because of his status as a slave. And slaves are seen and not heard, present but loyal. He cannot speak of what he hears—in theory—and is trusted with personal matters in return. He supposes he doesn’t mind the one-sided relationship, here and now anyway. It’s interesting listening to their conversations, but he feels practically bursting with questions and observations by the time the last one leaves. 

When they’re alone again, Julian sighs and rubs his face. He snaps his fingers by his side and Artemis scrambles to kneel. Julian reaches for Artemis’ neck and brings him closer, resting the slave’s head on his thigh, his hands on Artemis’ neck under the collar. He runs one hand through Artemis’ hair and Artemis shivers, leaning into Julian more. He understands that Julian wants stress relief, but he isn’t sure how to give it to him, yet. He wants to be closer to Julian, too, though he isn’t sure exactly why. He feels like Julian is a good and kind person overall, so he might as well let himself feel affection towards the man. 

Watching for signs that the touch isn’t wanted, Artemis slowly puts a hand on Julian’s thigh. He waits a moment, and when he isn’t pushed away, he moves his hand down Julian’s leg to his knee and ankle. He glances up at Julian and sees his master watching him with a small smile. Artemis swallows and looks away. 

“Dominus, may I ask a question?”

Julian gives his neck a soft scratch and he nearly moans. 

“Yes, Ari. What is it?”

“Well, I was wondering if I could… relax you… like I did yesterday, Dominus.” He bites his lip nervously, and he hears Julian inhale softly. His master rubs his scalp and pets him gently, humming. 

“Alright. Show me. Go slow.”

Artemis takes a shaky breath and nods. _Go slow._ He’s not sure what that means exactly, but he can guess. Gently, he rubs Julian’s leg, getting closer and pressing a kiss to his thigh on the fabric of his tunic. He shifts over and presses more kisses, stroking Julian’s bare leg and moving his hand higher up. But he doesn’t want to touch too much… in case Julian thinks he’s being impertinent, so he’s light as he moves into the V of Julian’s legs. He glances up at him as he kisses down his leg to the end of his tunic, where he stops, nervous suddenly. 

But then Julian’s hand is in his hair petting gently, and he takes a calming breath and scoots in. This time, he has to nuzzle his way in past the loose fabric of Julian’s boxers, but he manages it, and takes Julian’s length in his mouth. He makes a small noise and Julian groans, tilting his hips a little as his cock fills. Artemis warms and focuses on not scraping Julian with his teeth, trying to ignore his own arousal. The musky scent that immediately fills his nostrils doesn’t help, or the way Julian keeps petting him. 

“Good boy, perfect,” Julian says, and Artemis sighs with relief. This is nice. Well, it’s not bad, anyway. 

The way Julian’s sitting allows Artemis to rest his chin on the chair, and he settles down on his knees, tilting to rest slightly against Julian’s thigh. He keeps his hands tucked in his lap, unsure if Julian would want him to do anything with them. He feels nervous doing this, but Julian’s reaction seems positive so hopefully it’s safe. 

After a few minutes, Julian goes back to his computer, starting to work, and Artemis feels a sense of accomplishment. It might not seem like much, but he’s giving Julian comfort and relaxation, and surely that’s a good thing. He wants Julian to like him, and he wants to have a place here. And if that means being a _calidior mentulam_, then he should probably try to be the best at it that he can. Or, if Julian wants him to be something else, then he’ll be that thing. 

Artemis lets his mind wander, though he feels a fuzziness at the edges of his thoughts when Julian pets him. The soothing motions of Julian’s broad hand running through his hair is calming, and he feels himself getting almost sleepy again. 

When Julian does stir him, with a gentle hand on his neck, Artemis nearly whimpers, not wanting to move, but he reluctantly eases off and leans against Julian’s thigh. 

Julian chuckles softly and strokes Artemis’ hair before rubbing his neck under the collar with one hand as he finishes up his work with the other. Artemis nearly purrs into the touch, shifting and nuzzling into him appreciatively. He looks up at him almost without meaning to, watching Julian with a curious interest and appreciation. Julian notices his gaze but doesn’t seem to mind, and Artemis thinks that’s important somehow. He sighs, closing his eyes and soaking up Julian’s warmth.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
_salvē_ \- hello  
_ova cocta_ \- baked eggs, or in this case I’m using it to refer to an omelette/frittata  
_soror_ \- sister, a female sibling  
_frater_ \- brother, a male sibling  
_cāra_ \- beloved  
_medicus _\- doctor  
_magister_ \- a professor or teacher  
_culīna _\- kitchen  
_calidior mentulam _\- literally ‘warmer (of) cock’ / cock warmer


	3. Chapter 3

True to his word, before midday Julian sends Artemis back to his cubiculum to wait on the bed, bare, in the same position as before. It’s... tiring, and makes him nervous. He feels worn out from wearing the plug for even that long and he’s anxious to be rid of it. He’s more anxious to have Julian take it out. He’s used to being used sexually pretty regularly, but he’s still very new to this domus and he wishes he could have a moment to just _think_ and do nothing. Though if he did _think_ about everything he would surely fall to pieces. So it’s better to just… not think about it. 

He hears someone coming and tenses, hoping it’s Julian. Well, hoping it’s not someone else, anyway. That would be awkward. And awful.

“Good boy,” comes Julian’s voice, and a warm hand on his arse. 

Artemis shivers and whimpers softly, his head on his arms as he peers up at Julian shyly, his toes curling. He likes being called a good boy, even if it is… demeaning. He… wants to feel safe around Julian, too, but he’s still… a little terrified of him. 

“You took this so well. It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Julian asks, and Artemis shakes his head, flushing a little at the praise. 

“No, Dominus.”

“How _does_ it feel?” Julian goes to the balneum to wash his hands and comes back, drying them with a small towel. Artemis bites back a whimper, not really wanting to talk about it. 

“Sore, Dominus. I feel very… full.” He flushes. “But it doesn’t… hurt.” Not too much, anyway. He looks at the floor and focuses on breathing. 

Julian looks at him, putting the towel on the nightstand and squirting lube onto his hand from the bottle. “Hm. Alright. Well that’s good.”

He sits on the bed next to Artemis and lets some lube drip from his fingers onto the plug. It’s still cool, and Artemis flinches. With his other hand, Julian rubs Artemis’ leg. “It’s alright, just a little cold,” he says, and uses his finger to smooth some around the edges of the plug. Artemis whimpers softly, trying not to squirm, and winces as he feels his cock harden again. _Futuō_. 

Julian takes the plug in hand and twists it gently. Artemis makes a small noise and bites his lip, nails digging into his palms as he tries not to grip the bedsheets and mess up the bed. Oh, that’s an uncomfortable feeling. 

“There we go. Nice and easy. It’s alright to push it out.”

Which Artemis does, wincing as the widest point of the plug stretches him before it slips out. He sighs. 

“Good boy. Nicely done,” Julian says, giving him a pat and going to the balneum again. Artemis watches him with heavy eyes and a pink face, giving in to his urge to fidget as he grips the sheets. It’s helpful to have something grounding to hold onto, and he takes comfort in their softness. He drops his eyes and nuzzles just a little into the fabric, closing his eyes after a moment and imagining he’s somewhere else. He takes even breaths to help calm down. 

Julian washes the plug in the sink thoroughly and comes back with a wet washcloth. He cleans Artemis up—making the slave shiver and bite his lip at the cool, intrusive touches—and discards the towel in the laundry basket. Sitting back down, he strokes Artemis’ back and seems to assess him. “And how was that?” he asks.

Artemis swallows and nods, knowing he can’t be too truthful. “It was… alright,” he says, giving Julian a small, hesitant smile, and Julian chuckles. 

“Good. It’s not meant to hurt. If it does, what do you do?”

Artemis hesitates, but remembers what Julian told him. “I’m to tell you if it hurts, Dominus,” he says, and Julian nods. 

“Yes, good.” He strokes Artemis’ back softly, just looking at him. “Relax now, alright,” he says, and Artemis isn’t sure what that means exactly, but he shifts off his knees, onto his side, and curls up a little, just not enough to hide himself, since Julian doesn’t like that. 

Julian’s lips quirk up a tad and he puts a hand on Artemis’ side, petting his soft, pale skin, moving his hand over to Artemis’ hip, down his thigh. Artemis swallows, keeping his eyes down. It feels nice, though he wishes he was under the covers instead of on top of them. 

“Sometime soon, I’ll have you wear a plug most of the time, and you’ll be responsible for taking it out when you need to and washing it. Does that sound like something you would be able to do for me?”

Artemis resists the urge to grimace, knowing he has no choice in the matter. He shivers as Julian pets him, and nods. “Yes, Dominus. I… I've done that a little before.”

“Good… good boy, thank you. I might have Markus give you a bit of training, but that should suffice.”

Artemis winces, a little horrified at that idea. Training? With Markus? And what does _that _mean? He swallows. Hopefully it would just be… how to clean the plugs and maybe easier ways to put it in and take it out. Surely nothing more than that, right? _Gods_. 

“Yes, Dominus,” he says, and tries not to think too much about why Julian wants him to wear a plug in the first place. 

…

He’s kneeling, cool air moving over his exposed skin, on the floor of Julian’s room. Outside the open doorway and beyond the stone rail above the house, the sky is a pretty, blueish-pink. The occasional bird chirps can be heard, and the nightly sounds of vehicles going past the domus and heading into the city on the road a block away. But otherwise it’s quiet, most noises muffled by the domus’ thick walls and sturdy roof, and the other houses in the neighbourhood. 

It’s unusual for Artemis to live in such a quiet area. His previous two owners had been closer to the city where it was noisier, though the domus he grew up in was further out. He thinks he’ll appreciate the quiet, or perhaps he’ll feel disturbed by it. He isn’t sure yet. The house itself usually isn’t too quiet. He can normally hear _someone _doing something. 

He rubs his face with a sigh, listening in case someone comes and he has to put his hands behind his back again. 

After Julian had taken the plug out, he’d brought him to assist in a workout session in the basement equipment room, then to the tablīnum to do more work, and finally there was an interesting cēna where Artemis stretched his serving skills. He’s tired now from helping with meal prep and clean-up, but it’s a good kind of tired. He’s sore but glad he’s being helpful here. Though he knows what’s coming. This is his purpose here, after all, not to be a houseboy. 

He’s been waiting for a while now though and he’s beginning to feel anxious. Julian had sent him up here with instructions to strip and kneel, but nothing else. Artemis _assumes_ Julian wants him for sex. Maybe it’s another test. He’s glad of the brazier in the corner though, burning what he’s been told is moist rose and grapevine trimmings. It’s a sweet scent and provides a little light and heat in the cool darkness. 

Just then, he hears footsteps coming, and he takes a shaky breath and fixes his position. Well, he’ll soon find out. 

Julian comes in and glances at Artemis, but doesn’t say anything, going to his low dresser and leisurely taking off the metal cuffs on his wrists.

Artemis keeps his eyes down. He hears Julian sigh deeply and rub his wrists. He rolls his neck—Artemis can hear it crack—and rubs it. Artemis wants to give him a massage; working in front of a computer all day must kill Julian’s shoulders. And it would surely put his master in a better mood. 

“In the balneum,” Julian says, and Artemis is instantly more alert, “you’ll find a bowl and towel. Fill it with warm water and bring it back.”

Artemis is halfway rising already, and he nods. “Yes, Dominus.” He goes to the adjoining room and quickly finds the items, knowing as he gets them what they’re for. 

When he returns, Julian has taken his tunic off and is sitting on the bed, clad in _only_ his sandals. Artemis warms and goes to kneel by Julian’s feet. He sets the bowl down, pausing a moment to make sure this is what Julian wants, and, when he receives no correction, gets to work. He puts the towel on his arm to keep it clean as he deftly unstraps Julian’s shoes. 

He can feel Julian’s eyes on him as he unlaces the leather and lifts Julian’s feet by the ankle gently to slip the sandals off in turn. He senses when Julian leans back a little, his hands on the bed, and Artemis swallows, setting the shoes aside before taking one foot and holding it over the bowl. He scoops warm water over it and gently cleans it with his hand. He feels his face warm at the intimate action, though he knows it isn’t even really that intimate. Slaves perform the act of foot washing all the time. It seems much more sexual right now, though, because he’s a concubīnus, his master is looking down at him intently, and he and said master are both totally naked. He takes a few slow breaths and starts on the other foot, washing away the dust from the house. He’s gentle and thorough, quick but not careless. He wishes he could give Julian a proper foot massage. He’s been trained how to do it so surely it would be appreciated. 

He notices when Julian shifts closer, though he doesn’t expect his master’s hand when it slides into his hair and pulls his head up. He groans softly and his eyes flick from Julian’s face to his cock. Shit. He forces himself to look away. It’s a nice cock, but free people don’t like to be stared at. He swallows, trying not to _react_ himself. 

“Beautiful. Good boy, keep going,” Julian says, and releases Artemis so he can finish. He exhales in relief, the praise making him feel a little better, and continues, this time drying both feet. When he’s finished, he takes the bowl and towel away, leaving them to be washed later before he returns and hesitantly kneels back down between Julian’s legs. Julian hums, a hungry tilt to his lips, and shifts forward. He takes Artemis’ face in both hands and tilts his head up, soaking up the details of him before gently leaning in and kissing him. 

Artemis inhales, slightly shocked, and pleased. The kiss is warm and soft, and Artemis makes a small noise, kissing back. He likes kissing, especially when he has a chance to reciprocate. And Julian’s lips are gentle, tasting of cinnamon and mint tea. He shifts up on his heels to press into the kiss and Julian chuckles, slowing down. Artemis reluctantly follows his lead, letting himself whine softly. Julian hums and strokes his face, his thumbs straying to Artemis’ plush red lips and coaxing the slave to open his mouth. Julian slips his fingers in and Artemis closes his lips around the digits and sucks, making Julian hum appreciatively. Soon, though, he takes his fingers back. 

“Lovely, _dēliciae_, hands behind your back, you know what to do,” Julian says, and Artemis warms at the pet name; _sweetheart. _

Though the feeling is somewhat tempered when Julian shifts to the edge of the bed, and Artemis suddenly feels anxious again; _Does he_ know what to do? But he nevertheless nods and moves his hands behind his back, taking Julian’s cock in his mouth. It has a bitter, salty taste, and fills him thoroughly. He can feel his own cock thicken as he works, _gods_… 

He breathes evenly and swirls his tongue around, hollowing his cheeks and starting to bob slightly. Julian’s hands find his hair again and grip it lightly as he groans, leaning back. 

“_Bene fellās_,” he breathes in approval, and Artemis flushes. Well that’s good. He’d done it enough times on different people to be fairly sure that he could do a good job, but it’s always nice to hear. 

Julian lets him continue for a while, apparently just content to be pleasured, but eventually his breathing gets deeper and he shifts, gently pulling on Artemis’ wavy auburn hair. 

“_Dēsinē_,” he says softly, and Artemis tries not to let himself feel disappointed. Was that okay? Did he do something wrong? He lets Julian slip from his mouth, a string of saliva still connecting his lips and Julian’s cock. “On the bed, on your back holding your legs.”

Oh. 

With still heavy eyelids, puffy lips, and an aroused cock himself, Artemis hesitates dazedly for a second before nodding and hurriedly doing as he’s bid. He feels his face warm even more when he realizes how the position exposes him, with his legs up and his intimate parts on display. He takes even breaths and tries not to shiver. 

Julian has adjusted so he has one hand on the bed and is turned towards him, looking at Artemis in the low light of the brazier with hungry, intense eyes. Artemis keeps his eyes on the ceiling, but he can feel Julian’s gaze on him, roving down and drinking him in. His cock is partially filled and lying on his stomach, fat and aroused. He has the urge to touch himself but he ignores it, knowing any such impulses to be useless at best and infuriating at worst—and acting on them could get him swiftly reprimanded. 

He’s surprised when Julian rises, but hears a wet sound a moment later and knows he just went to get lube. Julian returns and kneels with legs on either side of Artemis, before using the lube on himself, and then on Artemis’ entrance. Artemis shivers and bites his lip, his hands tensing as his cock responds to the touch. His breathing quickens, and Julian lines himself up, moving to kneel over him, with one hand beside his head. Artemis swallows and drops his eyes to Julian’s chin. 

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” Julian asks, and Artemis makes himself nod. 

At least he knows it won’t be painful because he had the plug in today. He was worried he might not be ready for sex because it had been a week or so since his last. It seems like a year ago, now. 

“Good boy,” he says, and then Artemis feels pressure on his entrance. He takes shaky, even breaths, and whimpers when Julian’s cock breaches him for the first time. He’s warm and hard, but not so big as to cause pain. “There we go, so good for me, Ari,” Julian breathes, pushing in and then putting both hands on either side of Artemis’ head. He pants and reaches for Artemis’ wrists, taking them off Artemis’ legs to pin them to the bed. Artemis makes a small noise of surprise but remains docile in Julian’s hold, submitting to being adjusted. 

Julian growls low and begins to move, fucking Artemis into the bed and leaning in close. Artemis has to restrain himself from actively whining at the intense pace, and focuses on keeping his legs up, which have started to hurt a little. He wants to wrap his legs around Julian’s waist but he doesn’t know how that would be received, so he refrains. Julian’s grip on his wrists borders painful and he tries to pull away instinctually but his master’s grip is like iron. 

They’re both sweating and panting in minutes and Artemis’ cock is thick on his stomach, leaking precome. He thinks he could come if he wanted to, but remembers Julian’s order from before. No coming without permission. He wants to groan as his main struggle becomes stopping his own release. 

Julian _does_ groan, panting and leaning in as he moves his hips. His lips find Artemis’ cheek, his neck, his lips, and Artemis tries to be receptive, but he finds tears at his eyes as Julian kisses him, and he’s not sure why. He whines softly and pants, feeling overwhelmed all of a sudden. He squirms slightly but Julian doesn’t stop, just holds him tighter and kisses him more firmly. And then his thrusts get deeper and more hurried, and his hips thrust like a jackhammer, nearly making Artemis’ teeth clack. 

He cries out when he comes, thrusting hard as he spends hot seed deep inside. Artemis whimpers, lightly wrapping his legs around Julian, hanging on and moaning as Julian thrusts again a few times before dropping onto his forearms and leaning in close, his teeth at Artemis’ neck. He growls and nips there before biting the juncture between neck and shoulder, nudging the slave’s chain collar aside with his nose. He breathes in deeply and works a deep bite into the muscle, making Artemis cry out and whine. 

“Beautiful, it’s alright,” Julian soothes, nuzzling into him and kissing his jaw, pressing kisses onto him as his breathing comes back to normal. Artemis whimpers, taking comfort in the words. Julian pants and lifts up, looking into Artemis’ face before he pulls out and moves around him, dropping exhaustedly onto his side. Artemis shivers, and immediately, Julian grabs him again, pulling Artemis close to his chest and holding him tight. Artemis makes a small noise and groans, still panting lightly, sweaty and aroused. 

Julian kisses his cheek and nuzzles into him before fitting a knee between his legs and tugging him closer. Artemis can feel hot seed spilling out of him as he’s moved, and he winces, his face hot with embarrassment and… _need_. 

He liked it. Somehow, he liked being filled up by Julian. The effort and struggle was tiring but… his new master was overall gentle, and he’s holding him right now, and—oh, god, he’s so attracted to the man. He curses and shivers, lightly putting an arm over Julian’s around him and holding on. It’s… comforting… to be held like this. Even if he still…

To his surprise, Julian shifts. He twists away for a second and Artemis hears the familiar wet sound, before Julian brings his hand back and wraps it around Artemis’ cock. Artemis yelps in surprise and goes rigid. Julian chuckles and his legs tighten, holding his slave still. 

“You may come whenever you wish,” Julian whispers, and Artemis whines as Julian pumps him mercilessly. 

“_Dominus…_” Artemis breathes, and his voice is scratchy. Julian swipes around the head and Artemis sobs, gripping the sheets. He comes a moment later, spilling seed all over the sheets, and crying out, bucking into Julian’s hand and whining, basking in orgasm. He feels warm and floaty, and enormously grateful. He wasn’t sure if he would even be _allowed_ to come, so this is… perfect. He pants happily, and eventually Julian releases him. Julian kisses his neck and wraps arms around him, sighing. 

“Th-thank you, Dominus,” Artemis says, barely above a whisper, and Julian hums in response, kissing him again. 

“Don’t expect it as a given,” he says with a huffed laugh, and Artemis laughs softly, to stop himself from whining in frustration. 

“Yes, Dominus,” he says, and lets himself breathe and rest. It’s a little chilly in the room and he adjusts slightly, shifting back a little into Julian for warmth and holding his arms close. He sighs and tries to relax, but he shivers instead. He curses internally, and stiffens when Julian hums and holds him close for a moment. 

“You’re cold. Hop up for a second,” Julian says, untangling them, and Artemis nods and reluctantly rises. As he gets off the bed, Julian does too, and lifts the covers on the bed to hold them up as he gets back in himself. “Come on,” he says gently, with a light smile, and Artemis shivers and follows. Julian takes him in his arms again, tugging the quilt over them, and Artemis sighs at the delicious warmth. 

“Thank you, Dominus,” he says, and Julian hums. 

“Can’t have you chilly,” he says, squeezing Artemis tighter. Artemis sighs and brazenly takes his master’s wrist, drawing it up a little. He releases it, and there’s a pause before Julian takes his hand and intertwined them, squeezing his. Artemis warms and has the strangest urge to laugh with desperate delight, but refrains. He bites his lip and squeezes back, somewhat comforted by his master’s large hand in his. He’s warm and solid and… gentle, right now. 

Artemis cuddles back up against him again and feels Julian kiss his head, before he lets himself fall into an exhausted but content sleep. 

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Translations:**  
_balneum_ \- washroom  
_futuō_ \- fuck, a curse  
_dēliciae_ \- darling, sweetheart, beloved object  
_bene fellās_ \- you suck [cock] well

**Author's Note:**

> I'm also: [tumblr](https://aylenwrites.tumblr.com/), [dreamwidth](https://aylen.dreamwidth.org/), alt [tumblr](https://milarca.tumblr.com/), and alt [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milarca)


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